<!DOCTYPE html>
<html>
<head>
<meta charset="UTF-8">
<title>5 times Martin asked Jonathan out and one time he noticed by IAmTheAvengers</title>
<style type="text/css">

body { background-color: #ffffff; }
.CI {
text-align:center;
margin-top:0px;
margin-bottom:0px;
padding:0px;
}
.center   {text-align: center;}
.cover    {text-align: center;}
.full     {width: 100%; }
.quarter  {width: 25%; }
.smcap    {font-variant: small-caps;}
.u        {text-decoration: underline;}
.bold     {font-weight: bold;}
</style>
</head>
<body>
<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/25188982">5 times Martin asked Jonathan out and one time he noticed</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/IAmTheAvengers/pseuds/IAmTheAvengers'>IAmTheAvengers</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>The Magnus Archives (Podcast)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>5+1 Things, Alternate Universe - Coffee Shops &amp; Cafés, Author's intense love affair with tea, F/F, Jon is a an oblivious nerd, M/M, Martin is the barista, except it's actually a tea shop, i wanted to name it the magnus insTEAtute but it pained me too much, it's the coffee shop au you've all been waiting for, some swearing (mostly in Martin's head)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-07-10</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-07-28</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-05 08:22:09</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>6</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>7,365</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/25188982</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/IAmTheAvengers/pseuds/IAmTheAvengers</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Martin is a barista at a tea shop. Unfortunately he's developed a crush on a cute nerd who's name he doesn't even know. Luckily, he has a plan of action, or rather, his coworkers do. It mainly involves being increasingly obvious until there's no way he can be ignored. Surely this is going to work...</p><p>(Rating is for occasional swearing.)</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Georgie Barker/Melanie King (background), Martin Blackwood/Jonathan Sims</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>139</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>410</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. XOXO</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>so i listened to 4 series of the magnus archives and then needed enough fluff to drown in and i couldn't find enough coffee shop aus so i wrote one. Thank you to my friends for making this coherent!!!</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>The Magnus Tea shop was steady that morning, as with most mornings. The early birds had come in for their pre-work tea and there would be a rush from around eleven for lunchtime. But right now the clock had barely hit ten and Martin was waiting for a regular. Not that he would admit this to anyone, of course. Or at least anyone who didn’t ask. Well, anyone who didn’t look interested.</p>
<p>Who was he kidding, Martin had told everyone about the man he waited for in that quiet gap before lunchtime. Which was why his coworker Tim was currently keeping an eye on the clock with him and feeding him encouragement.</p>
<p>(Ask his name, Martin. He's obviously gay Martin, he was reading a queer theory book - please flirt more, please Martin, I already flirt with all the other customers. He’s also not my type but you literally look like you could eat him up.) What could he say, there was something about the nerdy-looking guy who could never decide on a drink (despite the fact that he always ordered a black tea in the end) that drew Martin’s eye. He could relate to indecision. He was good at it. Hence-</p>
<p>The bell above the door announced the arrival of the anonymous regular, Tim's sudden departure from Martin's side at the counter, and the clock striking five past ten. Which was funny because this guy looked like being on time was something he tried to avoid.</p>
<p>Martin smiled at the man as he pushed his hair out of his eyes to read the menu, unchanged in the two years that Martin had worked here. It was the kind of hair that looked almost long enough to tie back, either by choice or through forgetting to go to the hairdresser’s. Martin tried not to imagine running his fingers through that hair.</p>
<p>“Hi! How are you doing?” he asked chirpily, internally groaning at the energy. This was London, after all, not LA.</p>
<p>“Uh, well, thanks,” came the soft deep voice that Martin certainly did not wish he had tapes of. He sounded surprised to hear the question, before seeming to remember the response. “How are you?”</p>
<p>“Really well thanks! What can I get for you?” <em>It’s going to be a black tea, why even pretend?</em></p>
<p>“I think I’ll go for...a chai latte - no a pot of English Breakfast would be great. No milk or sugar.”</p>
<p>“Sure thing!” So a black tea it was. Why would you even come into a tea shop if all you were going to order was black tea? Martin thought his annoyance was purely directed at the handsome stranger before he realised it was also at himself. After all, Tim had literally just been telling him to ask this man his name but now he could barely get beyond basic customer service talk. <em>He isn’t even that that attractive</em>, Martin thought, <em>he just has these nice eyes. And a nice face. And the cutest frown when he reads-</em></p>
<p>Martin turned away to make tea before he started staring again. He focused on the motions, one teaspoon of black tea into the strainer, hot water into the tea pot, lid on, teacup in saucer, napkin… before he knew what he was doing, Martin had drawn a small heart on the napkin that he slipped under the teacup. Surely this was a bad idea, but no, he’d been thinking and not doing anything for too long. This was literally the smallest thing he could do to show his affection. Tim was back, grinning and peering over Martin’s shoulder.</p>
<p>“You get his name?”</p>
<p>“No, I- I forgot.”</p>
<p>“Mar<em>tin</em>.”</p>
<p>“I’m sorry, I panicked - but I put a heart on the napkin.”</p>
<p>“You didn’t.” Tim’s smile looked like it was about to split his face in two.</p>
<p>“Is that bad, should I not? You’re right this is a terrible idea-”</p>
<p>“No, Martin this is great! Honestly it’s...really you. Now take it over.”</p>
<p>Tim helped Martin balance everything on a tray, then shoved him over to the table where the man with the sexy hair sat (god if he didn’t cut his hair the blond locks just frizzed out in a way he couldn’t stand, and that Tim and Sasha tended to tease him about whenever they shared a shift with him but this guy just looked...<em>hot</em>). “One black tea,” he said, smiling to cover the rolling waves in his stomach as he tried to work out whether he wanted the man to see the heart or not. As soon as the pot and cup were on the table, Martin practically ran back to the counter, not noticing the smile that played on the lips of his customer as he watched his waiter flee.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. if only i knew ur name</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Martin's move of the week is...asking the Mysterious Customer his name. If he plays this right he might even get a name out of this.</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>This is unbeta'd so I'm sorry for any horrific mistakes. I've still not written all the chapters ad I don't have a release schedule BUT I'm hoping to get them all up in the next couple of weeks or so. Don't forget to subscribe so you know when I release a new chapter!!!</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Martin still couldn’t believe he’d been bold enough to draw a heart on the cute guy’s napkin, but he still didn’t know his name, or, well anything else about him apart from the fact that he seemed to be reading a new book a week.</p>
<p>Today, Martin would ask his name. He would. Unless he got lost in the eyes of the very man who was now heading in at five past ten on the dot.</p>
<p>The man was wearing the loosest possible version of a suit: an unbuttoned shirt (pale green to match swirling ocean eyes), a pair of worn grey chinos that had forgotten what new meant and whose slightly too short trouser leg tended more towards fashion incident than fashion choice, and a coat that Martin would later try not to describe as “piratey”. Martin’s heart did a backflip towards his mouth as his coworker - Sasha today - fulfilled her duty as wingwoman by leaving him to deal with the Customer.</p>
<p>He realised he had been staring when the stranger - well, regular customer <em> whose name he did not know </em>- coughed politely to get his attention.</p>
<p>“Ah, yes, sorry, I was just… what can I get you?” Martin prayed to any listening gods that he wasn’t blushing. Sasha’s thumbs up from where she was pretending to clear a table indicated that he was definitely was. He hoped he wasn’t quite the red of Jonathan’s lips. Which were moving. <em>Shit</em>.</p>
<p>“One pot of English Breakfast coming right up.” Martin held his breath, hoping he was right.</p>
<p>“Wonderful, thank you.” The stranger turned to go to his table. This was Martin’s chance.</p>
<p>“I’m Martin, by the way.”</p>
<p>The man looked back to the counter, seeming somewhat confused.</p>
<p>“Uh, in case you were wondering. Not that you looked like you were- I just see you a lot and ah-” He stumbled over his words as Sasha gave him what he was sure were incredibly meaningful glances from which he could glean no meaning. “I like to know the names of customers,” he finished lamely.</p>
<p>“I’m Jonathan,” the stranger - <em>Jonathan</em> - replied. “Or Jon, if you’d prefer.” And then he smiled, took his seat, and started reading as if nothing happened.</p>
<p>“Which I guess it hasn’t,” Martin muttered to himself as he made the boring black tea. Why anyone would choose to drink unsweetened black tea Martin had no idea, but as far as he was concerned this beautiful customer - <em>Jonathan, or Jon if I’d prefer </em>- could drink whatever he liked.</p>
<p>Sasha slid up next to him. “So…what’s your next move with Jonathan?”</p>
<p>“You were eavesdropping?”</p>
<p>She just raised an eyebrow.</p>
<p>He glared at her. “I don’t have a <em>next move</em>, we’re not six.”</p>
<p>She rolled her eyes and stared at the man across the room who was absorbed in his book. “I can see why you like him you know. Likes boring tea, can read, oblivious to my flirting attempts, they’re all traits I too long for in a man.” She glanced over at Martin who was standing almost hyperventilating beside her. “He’s not as scary as you think, I swear. Please, just serve him his tea and don’t faint if he uses your name. Think you can do that?”</p>
<p>Martin just muttered something under his breath and stoically took the tray. He placed the teapot and cup on the table with a smile and announced: “One black tea for Jonathan.”</p>
<p>He looked up from his book (the autobiography of Georgie Barker host of <em>What the Ghost?</em> Surely not) to thank Martin. By name. Martin tried not to faint, instead focusing on smiling again as he all but skipped back to the relative safety of Behind-the-Counter.</p>
<p>Martin was distracted by a few more customer wanting thankfully not black tea, including a young couple whose faces he could have sworn he recognised. Talking to the two women about the teas, Martin missed the chance to watch Jonathan (Jon?) leave. It was probably for the best, he mused as he made up a pot of ginseng and lemon tea to go with the Earl Grey cake the couple had eventually ordered. It was probably-definitely for the best.</p>
<p>Sasha squeezed his shoulder in consolidation when she saw that Jonathan had left without having heard a conversation between the two. “Just keep trying,” she said. “He probably doesn’t even realise you like him yet.”</p>
<p>Martin nodded, not realising how right she was.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0003"><h2>3. What a Snack</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Time to show affection with biscuits (how else!), Martin is still sweet. Jon is still oblivious. And so it goes on...</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>More chapter! Enjoy read :))</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>The next week, Jonathan strolled into his regular tea shop, late as usual for the ten o’clock he always aimed for. The man behind the counter - Martin apparently - smiled a cloud-splitting smile as he entered, leaving him barely enough cognitive function to even feign looking at the menu. How people on this planet were even allowed to be as pretty as the man behind the counter, he had no idea. And so sweet as well! Always leaving little notes and signs that Jon was a valued customer. He was glad that Martin had finally introduced himself, Jon always forgot that was something he could do until it was too late and it would have seemed awkward.</p>
<p>“Hello, Jonathan. How’s it going?”</p>
<p>Martin had said words. Pretty waiter had spoken and Jon was sure he knew his name and also the response. (-How’s it going? -Really well cos your eyes just brightened my morning. No that would never do, they weren’t in a trashy romcom and he didn’t want to creep out the pretty waiter. Right, elegant response let’s go.)</p>
<p>“Fine, thanks. How about yourself?” (Not quite elegance but simple is good, right?)</p>
<p>“I’m well! What can I get for you today? We’ve got a really lovely jasmine tea that’s just been restocked.”</p>
<p>Jon knew jasmine tea was nice, it was, after all, his favourite. But what if they brewed it wrong? What if they used hot water? What if it was over-brewed and he couldn’t drink it and he had to just leave a pot of tea? Despite his misgivings, Jonathan heard himself starting to speak. “That sounds….really nice. I’ll have a pot of that. Thank you.”</p>
<p>“Sure.” the lovely waiter looked confused. (Oh no he was going to pour boiling water on the leaves and the tea would be bitter and horrible and he would never be able to come here again.) Except that now he was asking Jon if he had any allergies “because we’re...doing some biscuit samples today.”</p>
<p>“I - I can eat everything.”</p>
<p>“Wonderful, I’ll bring it right over.” Martin’s smile was back and it was radiant. Jonathan took a deep breath and turned to his table to try and read his book. He needed to get to the end of Dorian Grey by tomorrow for his weekly book review, after all.</p>
<p>---</p>
<p>Martin was ready to crawl under the counter from the awkwardness of his interaction with Jonathan, but unfortunately there were more customers and Tim was washing up in the backroom after Martin had all but shooed him away as Jonathan had approached. The customers in question were the same couple as the week before and had apparently decided this gave them the right to tease Martin about what was apparently a very obvious crush.</p>
<p>“So do we get free biscuits as well?” the first one asked, the one with the very familiar face.</p>
<p>“Yeah, or is that just for the pretty boys.”</p>
<p>Martin felt his ears heat up and started to stutter out something about biscuits for them as well. The embarrassment was not helped by Tim reappearing from the back room and hearing the teasing.</p>
<p>“So I assume your flirtations are going well.” Tim nudged Martin and winked at the customers.</p>
<p>“I just-” Martin tried to talk. “Can we not- He’s only <em>over there</em>,” he hissed, staring pointedly at Jonathan before quickly lowering his gaze. “Please don’t- please pick a tea,” he tried desperately.</p>
<p>“Hmmm,” the first woman said, “I’m thinking jasmine might be nice. What do you think, Georgie?”</p>
<p>“I think the previous customer seemed to get excellent service when he ordered jasmine. What a good choice, Mels.”</p>
<p>“Wonderful,” Martin tried to smile away his embarrassment and pretend he hadn’t picked up on any of the teasing that was currently going on. “I’ll go and make some tea, Tim will help you if you need anything else.”</p>
<p>“But what if we want biscuit samples?” heckled ‘Mels’.</p>
<p>“Yeah, will this lovely man also give us biscuit samples if we’re cute and awkward enough.”</p>
<p>Martin pointedly ignored them as he went about making up two pots of jasmine tea. He tried not to listen as Tim told them about how “adorable” it was to see him “try to flirt”. Instead he focused on adding the 80 degree celsius water and selecting the nicest of the biscuits they had on offer.</p>
<p>(Biscuit samples? Just give him one as a gift. Now he’ll think it’s shop policy, <em>why is flirting so hard?</em>)</p>
<p>He left one pot of tea for Tim to serve when he was finished gossiping, balancing the other pot on a tray with the biscuits and Martin’s favourite tea cup and saucer. (They were apparently all the same but this one was just somehow <em>nicer</em>.)</p>
<p>He even managed to talk as he unloaded the tray, despite the eyes he felt watching him from the direction of the counter.</p>
<p>“Here we are, Jon. One pot of jasmine tea, and a chocolate chai biscuit. The jasmine is actually brewed at 80 degrees to help get a rounder flavour, unlike your usual black tea which is brewed at 100 degrees, so just bear in mind that you can probably drink it a bit sooner because it’s not as hot ah…can I get you anything else?”</p>
<p>“No that’s...thank you, Martin. This looks lovely.”</p>
<p>Martin tried not to be too obvious in his happiness but he couldn’t deny he was proud of himself. Jonathan was drinking something other than English Breakfast! And he’d called Martin lovely! Or at least the word ‘lovely’ had been used in conjunction with him: Martin. He managed, with a lot of effort, to not skip back to the counter but he couldn’t help but beam at where Tim and the two women were still standing very unsubtly at the counter. “I did it,” he whispered to himself. “I talked to the gorgeous customer.”</p>
<p>The whole rest of the day Martin served customers with a giant smile, not even minding Tim’s teasing as they made pots of tea and served more people together. Little did he know that Jonathan was likewise thinking of the pretty waiter who had made jasmine tea perfectly, and given him a free biscuit. Now if only Jon could work out how to tell if someone was actually interested and not just being nice...</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>For Fahrenheit users: 80 Celsius is 176 Fahrenheit<br/>Important tea notes (I have a Passion for Tea): while black teas (the most common time in Europe)should be brewed in boiling water, green tea and a lot of more delicate leaves should be brewed at a colder temperature (I brew mint like this). So if you don't like green tea cos it's bitter, try adding a bit of cold water first!</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0004"><h2>4. Sweet Music</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Jon is here! Georgie is here! No one can talk, they're all too awkward. Oh also, Martin has a gay ass playlist on...</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>i wrote more!!!!! this was a bitch to format but i did it for u. yes u specifically. ur welcome.</p><p>IMPORTANT NOTE: tim uses emojis but ao3 says no. so i did a discord and put descriptions of emojis in colons :heart:</p><p>also, thank u to bannedthingy for betaing. without you, this would have been incomprehensible</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Martin was bored. It was after the breakfast rush on a Wednesday and there was no one on shift with him. In the background, a playlist called Mysterious Customer played sappy romantic songs. Whenever he was on shift with Tim or Sasha, they managed to win the coin toss for music choice which meant he tended to be stuck with Sasha’s indie folk or Tim’s cafe-appropriate ska. Today though, Hozier pined out of the speakers as Martin restocked sugar bowls on the empty tables.</p><p>The bell above the door tinkled as one of the couple who had teased him the previous week wandered in, waving as she caught his eye.</p><p>“Hi, Martin. Tim told us your name last week, by the way. Sounds like we’ll have to wait to tease you about your handsome customer though, can’t believe he only visits you once a week!”</p><p>Martin blushed at this, but the woman’s tone was kind so he didn’t feel too attacked. He smiled, “what a shame there aren’t as many opportunities for customers I don’t know to mock me. Talking of which, what’s your name? I feel like I heard your uh… the person you came in with call you Georgie?”</p><p>“That’s me.”</p><p>Her name and voice seemed familiar but Martin couldn’t put his finger on why before Georgie spoke again.</p><p>“What teas do you have today? Anything exciting?”</p><p>Now this was a question Martin knew how to handle. Work questions he could do. <em>Jon</em> questions were harder. “We have a strawberry green tea if that’s your thing?”</p><p>She shook her head vehemently. “I cannot stand fruit tea. Sorry!”</p><p>“No worries. How about this Russian Caravan tea? It’s a smoky black tea, not quite as strong as lapsang souchong but a really nice flavour.”</p><p>“That sounds good, a pot of Russian Caravan for two please.”</p><p>“Sure thing,” Martin said, then, “who are you meeting?”</p><p>It was at this moment that the doorbell once again announced a customer and several things happened at once.</p><p>Georgie saw the hopeless waiter aka Martin look towards the door with an expression of love-stricken terror. Upon turning she saw her favourite ex aka today’s interviewer about her recently published autobiography enter the Magnus Tea Shop.</p><p>Martin saw the subject of the current playlist enter his tea shop two days early, with no coworkers to tell him how to flirt aka mock him for his flirting technique. He tried not to panic as a dulect cello introduced Christina Perry singing that Twilight song.</p><p>Jonathan Sims entered the Magnus Tea Shop to the sight of his favourite ex aka today’s interviewee chatting with the pretty barista aka Martin, who was somehow looking even more radiant than usual today.</p><p>Georgie felt several jigsaw pieces fall into place. “Jonathan!” she smiled. “I haven’t seen you in ages, I barely recognised you!”</p><p>“Georgie! Sorry I’m late, have you ordered already?”</p><p>“Yeah, Martin here recommended the Russian Caravan so I thought I’d go for a pot to share, although I don’t think he’s made it yet if you want something else.”</p><p>“I haven’t.” Martin managed to get out, reminding himself that Jonathan had no reason to suspect this playlist had been made for him. (Or more accurately, to pine over him, but that was even more embarrassing.)</p><p>“No, no, that’s quite alright. I remember it being nice on the one occasion that I had it.” There was a pause then Jonathan continued. “I’m interviewing Georgie about the autobiography she’s just put out and I thought I might as well take her to my favourite tea shop to do so. After all, just because she does a ghost podcast, doesn’t mean she can’t go to nice, unhaunted places.” There was another pause before Jonathan looked down, abashed. “Sorry, that was a bad joke.”</p><p>“Oh, I quite liked it.”</p><p>Jon looked up at Martin. “You did?”</p><p>“Yeah it was…” (cute? Could he say cute? Apparently not. Now how to continue in a non-awkward manner...ah, yes,just pretend nothing was said.) “Just a pot of Russian Caravan then? Take a seat and I’ll bring it right over.”</p><p>Martin saw Georgie’s grin as she looked between the two of them before giving him a subtle thumbs up. He watched Jonathan sit down and take his coat off to reveal another green shirt, this time light green covered in various stylised eyes. Despite the fact that it was somewhat, well, creepy, Jonathan managed to pull it off and it only birthed more butterflies in Martin’s stomach. He pulled his gaze away and busied himself making the tea while trying to figure out what to do about the sappy playlist in the background. He tried to remember if any of the other cafe playlists had a similar enough vibe that the change would go unnoticed. Unfortunately, between Sasha’s indie folk and Tim’s almost-ska, Martin’s music didn’t get much of a look in. Which meant this was his only playlist. <em>Shit.</em></p><p>The next song came on just as Martin had loaded everything onto a tray. It was a particularly slow rendition of <em>Can’t Help Falling In Love</em> with every word clearly sung out into the cafe. And he had to face Jonathan with this on.</p><p>“Here we are,” he set the tray down and carefully unloaded the pot, two teacups and saucers. “One pot of Russian Caravan. Can I get you any milk? I’d recommend it without but I know some people prefer it with, so it’s up to you.”</p><p>Georgie and Jonathan looked at each other in the universal expression of <em>’your choice’</em>. “I’m fine without if you are, Georgie.”</p><p>Georgie nodded her assent.</p><p>“Alrighty. And ah- do you want me to turn the music down for your interview? I don’t know if you’re recording it on your tape recorder?”</p><p>“Oh that’s alright. The tape recorder just helps jog my memory if I forget anything, but the music won’t interfere.” Jonathan rested a hand on the recorder that lay at the edge of the table. “Whose music is it, by the way? It’s nice.”</p><p>Martin willed himself not to go red as Jonathan and Georgie looked up at him. “It’s mine,” he stammered out. “WeIl I didn’t write the songs, obviously. I made the playlist though. It’s just nice background cafe music, you know? Yeah just...gives the place some ah… vibes.” Mentally, Martin was banging his head against a wall while shouting <em>“I made this playlist for you Jonathan, please date me now.”</em> Externally he was projecting an incredibly professional, calm demeanor, a fact thoroughly backed up by the sight of Georgie trying not to laugh.</p><p>“Oh, well, good music,” Jonathan said. “Good...vibes.”</p><p>Martin tried to envisage a direction in which this conversation could continue that didn’t involve being swallowed by the earth beneath him and, upon coming up empty handed, croaked out a “thanks”, before definitely-not-running away.</p><p>At their table, Jonathan began to interview Georgie (<em>the</em> Georgie Barker off <em>What the Ghost?</em> he should have known. He listened to her podcast enough, after all). Martin snuck his phone out under the counter, half an eye on his customers (where Jonathan’s eye shirt was staring right back), and sent an urgent message to the cafe group chat he had with Tim and Sasha.</p><p><strong>Hopeless Gay:</strong> <em>HELP! Jon here interviewing GEORGIE BARKER wut dooooo????</em></p><p>Moments later, his phone lit up with responses from Tim and Sasha.</p><p><strong>the hot one:</strong> <em>go declare ur love</em></p><p><strong>maybe sasha:</strong> <em>Wait like from What the Ghost?? </em></p><p><strong>Hopeless Gay:</strong> <em>ye from wtg</em><br/>
<strong>Hopeless Gay:</strong> <em>@the hot one i already hav my playlist on :’)</em></p><p><strong>the hot one:</strong> <em> oh noooo</em></p><p><strong>Hopeless Gay:</strong> <em> i sed it had gd vibes</em></p><p><strong>maybe sasha:</strong> <em> Oh, Martin</em></p><p><strong>Hopeless Gay:</strong> <em> and then he REPEATED THAT</em></p><p><strong>the hot one:</strong> <em> ur playlist does have gd vibez tho martin :laughing face: :devil face:</em></p><p><strong>Hopeless Gay:</strong> <em> UR NOT HELPING TIM &gt;:-(</em></p><p><strong>the hot one:</strong> <em> go draw a :heart: <code> &lt;3 </code> on his napkin again :kissing face:</em>
</p><p><strong>maybe sasha:</strong> <em> Again???</em></p><p><strong>Hopeless Gay:</strong> <em> ignoring both of u</em><br/>
<strong>Hopeless Gay:</strong> <em> gna be alone 4eva</em><br/>
<strong>Hopeless Gay:</strong> <em> no frends</em><br/>
<strong>Hopeless Gay:</strong> <em> no pretty customers</em><br/>
<strong>Hopeless Gay:</strong> <em> just me n my t </em></p><p>
  <code></code>
</p><p>
 <strong>maybe sasha:</strong> <em> Ah you’ll be fine, Martin. Just keep smiling til he leaves and we’ll come up with a way to show you like him later when we’re on shift!</em>
</p><p>
  <code></code>
</p><p>
  <strong>the hot one:</strong> <em> make sure u ask him if he’s coming fri!</em><br/>
<strong>the hot one:</strong> <em> and if so lmk so i can try some moves on him</em>
</p><p>
  <code></code>
</p><p>
<strong>maybe sasha:</strong> <em> Tim, leave Martins crush alone</em>
</p><p>
  <code></code>
</p><p>
<strong>the hot one:</strong> <em> cant believe were not allowed to flirt with customers any more smh</em>
</p><p>
  <code></code>
</p><p>
 <strong>maybe sasha:</strong> <em> *rolls eyes*</em>
</p><p>
  <code></code>
</p><p>
 <strong>Hopeless Gay:</strong> <em> gd idea sasha!</em><br/>
<strong>Hopeless Gay:</strong> <em> thx 4 ur help :* :* :*</em><br/>
<strong>Hopeless Gay:</strong> <em> tim ur smelly i only lyke sasha</em>
</p><p>
  <code></code>
</p><p>
 Martin smiled as he put his phone away. His friends liked to tease him but they could be helpful as well. He would ask Jonathan if he was coming on Friday still before he left and then him and Sasha could come up with a new way to make a move. And, as the group chat had just reminded him with a few more messages, at least he had Saturday games night with Tim and Sasha to look forward to no matter how successful he was at catching Jonathan’s attention.
</p><p>
  <code></code>
</p><p>
Across the cafe, Jonathan and Georgie talked animatedly about Georgie’s new book as love songs continued to play. Martin’s eyes wandered across his crush’s enigmatic hands as they tapped along to Georgie’s words, and his dark hair which would occasionally drift forwards to obscure those ocean eyes which carried all the expression the fake eyes on his shirt lacked.
</p><p>
  <code></code>
</p><p>
Martin busied himself wiping shelves behind the counter before he got too distracted by the beautiful man who sat across the cafe. One day he would work out how to flirt so the object of his attempts noticed, but until then he would focus on the soft sounds of the interview that took place, interwoven with the mushiest of love songs known to man. Martin’s day could certainly have been worse.
</p><p>
  <code></code>
</p><p>
As Jon got up to pay Martin before he and Georgie left, Martin prepared his question. Jon tapped his card on the machine before Martin managed to force out, as nonchalantly as possible, “Are you still coming in on Friday?”
</p><p>
  <code></code>
</p><p>
Jonathan looked surprised.
</p><p>
  <code></code>
</p><p>
“It’s just that, it’s always nice to see you, Jonathan, and it’s good to know when people - ah - customers are coming in. Not that I keep tabs, I’m just used to you coming in on a Friday and-”
</p><p>
  <code></code>
</p><p>
“Yes. I will be coming in, Martin. I like to read here on a Friday morning, you’ve got a nice atmosphere. And please, call me Jon. I know I introduced myself as Jonathan but it’s long and...you can call me Jon. If you’d like.”
</p><p>
  <code></code>
</p><p>
Martin smiled. “Good! As in, good to know! About the name, and you coming in. I’ll look forward to seeing you!”
</p><p>
  <code></code>
</p><p>
 “I’ll look forward to seeing you too. Until Friday, Martin.”
</p><p>
  <code></code>
</p><p>
“Til Friday, Jon.”
</p><p>
  <code></code>
</p><p>
 Martin waited for Jon to leave before texting the entire encounter to the group chat, much to the annoyance of Sasha who arrived only minutes later and “could have been told before Tim”. But Martin was too happy to care. The lunch rush passed in a messy blur and, before long, Martin was home and dreaming of Friday.
</p><p>
  <code></code>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>thank you for reading!!! hopefully i mange to write two more chapters... you'll be pleased to here i have an ending in mind!!!!</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0005"><h2>5. The Long Way to a Suitably Gay Cafe</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Martin tries to give Jon his number but, like, subtly.</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>ahhhh i'm so sorry this chapter took so long!!! i had writer's block and these two would just Not. Talk. To. Each. Other. but as you can see i have Written and the last chapter is coming much more smoothly so should be up soon enough!</p><p>I've gotta thank bannedthingy for beta'ing again, they literally saved this from having somewhat every sentence and having you squint at the oage like hmm</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>Martin and Sasha had come up with a plan, as could be seen from Martin’s confident smile which only occasionally gave way to an expression of pure fear. Tucked away, out of sight below the counter lay a book that Martin was going to lend to Jonathan- </span>
  <em>
    <span>Jon</span>
  </em>
  <span>. He had read The Long Way to a Small Angry Planet and enjoyed it, so much so that he had somehow ended up with two copies.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>It had been Sasha’s idea to gift Jon a book. After all, the man was always reading and Martin had a spare copy. In the newer edition, Martin had written his name and phone number on the title page, which Sasha assured him was a normal thing to do when lending books. Martin was not so sure and had worried what Jon might read into the number, but then Sasha had reminded him that they were hoping for Jon to read something into the number, namely, a date request, before muttering something about “hopeless gays” and “an apt nickname in the group chat”.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>And so Martin tried not to count the seconds down to when he knew Jon would come in through the door, ready to be presented with a book, as per Sasha’s instructions. Jon entered at a prompt 5 past ten, when Sasha took her cue to not be available, leaving Martin alone to serve. He tried to ignore her getting her phone out under the table, presumably to live text Tim as this encounter played out.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Hi, Martin,” Jon greeted.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Hi, Jon,” Martin said as the thinking part of his brain attempted conversation. “What’s cooking?” Martin wished he had come up with a secret signal for Sasha so that she could have said literally anything because this conversation was already going terribly.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“A tea hopefully...do you cook tea? Is that weird? I-what do you have?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Martin was pleased to see an equal level of awkwardness in both of them today. It made the conversation slightly more level. “The masala chai is really tasty.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Jon pondered briefly then nodded. “Go on then. Your recommendations so far have all been good so I’ll trust you on this one.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>This is my chance, thought Martin. Get the book out. “Lovely. Anything else? The orange chocolate cake is super nice.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“No, thank you. That’s all.” His smile was nervous but genuine, and Martin felt a wave of warmth rush through him as he left. He gazed after him as he sat down, not even trying to hide his pining from Sasha.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>She sidled up beside him. “So...” she started. “You give him the book yet?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“No I...he’s  just too..” he waved a desperate but professionally subtle hand at Jon, who had just pulled out a copy of Moby Dick and a notebook.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Oh, Martin. You really are hopeless,” Sasha said fondly. “Just give it to him when you bring him his tea. Pretend like you just remembered, I would say play it cool but...just play it you.” She paused to consider the object of Martin’s affections who, today, was looking vaguely suave in a waistcoat with jeans. He seemed to be occupying himself with staring at his book for long periods whilst intermittently scribbling in the notebook. “I think he likes you, you know. He just shows it in a very subtle way. So give him the book and tell him you wrote your number in the front and see if you can’t drag a smile out of him.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Martin considered Sasha’s words. “You’re right, I’ll give him the book. It was our plan after all!”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He shot her a smile before turning to make tea. “You’re right, I’ll do it.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>---</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Jon was almost done drafting his analysis of Moby Dick, when Martin set down the tray and arranged the tea and cup around the selection of books on the table. “Here we are, Jon. One masala chai.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Ah, thank you.” Jon smiled at the tea on the table as he closed his book and notebook. He could already smell the slightly spicy notes and knew that Martin had recommended well.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I also…” Jon looked up to where Martin was tapping nervously on the cover of a book that still lay on the tray. He absently wondered why. “I noticed that you’re always reading and I like reading as well and I had a spare copy of my favourite book - The Long Way to a Small Angry Planet - so I thought why not lend it to Jon, and I’ve brought it with me, it’s a really good sci-fi and, ah, yeah if you get a chance you should read it.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He took the book from Martin’s outstretched hand, smiling at the familiar cover.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Wow, thank you, Martin. I actually write book reviews for my blog and I’m always looking for new stuff so this is good.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Oh cool, you have a blog?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I do,” Jon was nervous but pleased to talk about his passion. “I’m a writer, or trying to become one at least, and I find it gives me good practice.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“That’s really cool. Maybe I should look you up.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>(Oh no, now Martin felt like he had to look at Jon’s work and he would see all the embarrassing things Jon had written about the lovely tea shop.) “Oh don’t feel you need to, I’m not sure how good it is. Thank you for the book, though. I’ll make sure to return it when I’m done.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Martin smiled at Jon, a beam of sunshine which took his breath away. “Yeah that would be good, hope you enjoy the book! Although no worries if you don’t just, yeah, let me know!”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I will.” Jon opened his notebook back up as Martin left with the tray. He’d read The Long Way to a Small Angry Planet before, but Martin giving him the book was reason enough to reread it. No one had lent Jon a book in such a long time, and the idea that Martin had specifically thought of him gave him a warm feeling in his stomach. He poured himself a cup of tea, small enough to cool quickly and taste soon. He had had a chai before but something about the fact that Martin had recommended it made the pot in front of him something special.  He knew that Martin was simply doing his job but he tried to ignore this as he opened the book. The pages moved the still air so that a whisper of steam was drawn towards in and he savoured the warmth that it brought. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He smiled into the book as he began to read, leaving his homoerotic analysis of Moby Dick for later.</span>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>last chapter will be up soon! hopefully this is helping you cope with the Hiatus. i have recently found the rusty quill discord as well which is full of lovely people if you need your fandom fill! I think the link is pretty easy to find if you wanna join :))</p><p>also a big thanks to everyone who's left comments, i really appreciate every one and try to reply as well so sorry if yours got missed i do appreciate you!!!</p><p>the book mentioned (which is referenced in the title) is a really good sci-fi with some queer characters and a lot of family analysis and it offers really good social commentary whilst having a good plot basically it's good. plus apparently moby dick is very gay i asked my friends for gay books and these were the suggestions so there we are.</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0006"><h2>6. Of Fools and More Fools</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Martin tries one more way to get Jon's attention. Everyone is useless except Georgie. Tim is a little bit useful but our main characters are both fools. As my beta said "I love Jon, he's so stupid."</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>It's finally here! The conclusion you've all been waiting for!!!</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>Martin tapped his foot nervously under the counter as he waited for Jon. The man hadn’t texted him but that meant nothing. He had that whole chill thing going on (except for the fact that a book a week was not chill but aside from that). Sasha had assured him earlier in the week that Jon probably just preferred face-to-face conversations while Tim offered to show Martin his flirting technique. Which was what he was possibly doing now, going by the blush creeping across the face of the charmed person on the other side of the counter.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>It was only ten to ten but there had already been an unexpected rush, likely due to the sudden rain that was breaking up an otherwise sunny day. Just as Martin was about to clear some tables to distract him from Tim easily getting the promise of a date out of a very smug customer, he saw that Georgie was heading in. She was with the same woman as she had shared the pot of jasmine tea with, and they both smiled as they saw Martin waiting.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Hi, Martin,” Georgie opened. “How’s it going with you? You manage to wrangle Jon on a date yet?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Wow, really going straight for the gossip, I see.” He chuckled. “I’m alright, still working on getting Jon to notice me. I actually, uh, I gave him a book last week. With my number in. But he hasn’t texted, or, well, anything.”</span>
  <span><br/>
<br/>
</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh, Martin. That’s a good move but I really think you need to go bigger on this. He’s got eyes for you but he’s just-”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“He’s just so oblivious.”</span>
  <span><br/>
</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Melanie!”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“What? It’s true!” Melanie looked to Martin. “From what Georgie told me from when she used to date him, you need to be extremely clear or he’s not going to get it.”</span>
  <span><br/>
<br/>
</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Martin was feeling slightly overwhelmed by all this information but he tried to respond in a reasonable manner. “I’m certainly trying my best!” He gave them his best customer service smile before interrupting any further probing with, “Now what can I get you to drink? Something to ward off the rain?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Georgie let Melanie pick a pot of gingerbread chai with a side of oat milk and soon enough they were sitting across the tea shop, adding their voices to the pleasant hum which mingled gently with the patter of the rain outside. Martin was just taking their tea over when Jon walked through the door, dark hair plastered down by the rain and a surprisingly dry backpack clutched to his front. Martin saw a look of confusion pass over his face as he saw only Tim behind the counter before his gaze swept the room to see Martin returning with a tray in his hand.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Martin!” greeted Jon.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Hi, Jon. Pretty wet out there, huh.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Indeed. I tried to keep my bag dry but I’m not sure how well I did. Luckily…” Here he paused to reach inside the backpack which was occasionally being dripped on my Jon’s sodden hair. “I put your book inside a plastic bag!” He triumphantly held out a book shaped package, wrapped in an orange Sainsbury’s bag. “It was a brilliant book, thank you for the recommendation.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He sounded so sincere that Martin was unsure of how to react. “You’re welcome. I’m so glad you enjoyed it. Is it going to get a book review?” he joked.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Jon suddenly looked very uncomfortable and muttered something under his breath.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Ah I- I didn’t quite catch that, sorry.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I, well, I’ve actually read the book before, so there’s already a review for it. I didn’t want to tell you because it was such a lovely book and I did really enjoy re-reading it but...I’ve done the book review already.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Okay...well I don’t really mind that you’d already read it. So long as you enjoyed the second read I guess.” He laughed awkwardly as he took the book that Jon had placed on the counter.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I really did! It’s a really good read, thank you for lending it to me.” He glanced at the book parcel in Martin’s hands. “I liked that you put your name and number in the front, I know I sometimes forget who’s lent me books so it’s useful to have a reminder. I was glad I didn’t need it though, it would have been embarrassing to have to text you.” He let out a short laugh. Martin tried to smile despite the butterflies that were battling in his stomach.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Yeah, that wouldn’t have been good.” His face contorted into what some may have called a grimace and tried to think of something to say that didn’t feel too close to actual flirting. “What tea are you feeling today?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Jon raised his eyes to the menu above the counter squeezing some of the water from his hair onto the floor. “What do you recommend?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Martin tried not to focus on how much like a bedraggled kitten Jon looked as he thought up a suitable tea for the weather. “We have a fresh peppermint and ginger tea? Nice and warming for days like this.” They both glanced at the rain that continued to pour outside.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Wonderful. Sounds like the tea for today.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Lovely, I’ll bring it right over!” Martin smiled until Jon and turned to sit down before desperately trying to make eye contact with Tim.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“What do you need, my would be wooer?” Tim asked as he arrived back behind the counter from collecting dirty cups.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“He noticed my number in the book, but he said he was glad he didn’t have to call, but I think it was just because he felt awkward, but now he doesn’t have my number, what do I do?” Martin stared wide-eyed as Tim considered his protege before him.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I think you need to give him your number again.”</span>
  <span><br/>
<br/>
</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I do?”</span>
  <span><br/>
<br/>
</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yes. Go up to him and tell him you want to go on a date. Or,” he added, as Martin’s eyes took on a panicked edge, “write your number on his napkin and just slide it in with that delicious homemade tea that you’re making.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Martin nodded to himself, considering the idea. “That sounds...I can do that. I know my number, and that way Jon will know it, too.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“That’s the spirit! Now go chop some ginger.” He patted Martin on the shoulder. “I’ve got more work to do but if you need some Sasha-approved Tim advice, just wave and I’ll be right over.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Martin smiled at his friend as he headed over to chop some ginger into a teapot and added some mint. The smell of it reminded him of cold evenings watching Doctor Who with Sasha and Tim. He smiled into the steam for a moment before putting a lid on and grabbing a napkin. He wrote his number on it and, before he had the chance to doubt himself, took the tray to where Jon was sat, furiously scribbling in a notebook.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Hi, Jon. I’ve got your tea.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Jon snapped the notebook shut and looked up to where Martin was unloading his tea.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I also-” there was suddenly not enough oxygen in the room as Martin’s stomach started an Olympic acrobatics routine. “I wrote my number on this napkin, um, in case you ever wanted to text me. Like, no pressure but yeah it’s there.” He put the napkin down between the teapot and cup before glancing up to see Jon’s reaction. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Jon looked slightly confused but otherwise pleased. Surely this was a good sign. “Thank you, Martin. For the tea and, ah, well, your number. I’ll certainly use it if I ever need any tea recommendations. Although currently I enjoy coming here too much to do that!”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Martin tried to find the words to reply in a way that more obviously said “date me”, but was saved the trouble by one Georgie Barker suddenly standing over Jon with a terrifying expression on her face. Behind her, Martin caught the amused expression of Melanie watching from their table as Georgie told Jon off.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Jonathan Sims, how many times has this man given you his number?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Jon looked suitably afraid. “Well, just now-”</span>
  <span><br/>
<br/>
</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“And in the front of his book.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Ah.”</span>
  <span><br/>
<br/>
</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“And he’s given you free cake, and recommended you tea every time you’ve come in.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>A look of realisation dawned over Jon’s face as a few pieces fell into place. “So the heart on the napkin…”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Martin blushed. “I am right here.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>They both looked over to where Martin still stood awkwardly at the edge of Jon’s table.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I’m going to leave you to it,” Georgie said, whispering “he’s trying ask you out, Jon,” before she turned back to her own date.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>There was a very awkward silence, eventually broken by Martin starting an apology.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Obviously you don’t have to- I mean, I just wanted to ask if you wanted to maybe hang out some time but there’s no pressure and I don’t want you to think-”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I would love that,” Jon interrupted.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Martin gaped for a moment in shock. Despite all of the encouragement from his friends, Martin had never fully expected to organise a date with Jonathan. “You would?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Yes. Definitely.” His fingers tapped a nervous rhythm on the table. “I’d love to hang out sometime.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Martin felt a smile overtaking his face and soon enough he was beaming at Jon. “Well then if you want to, maybe, text me at some point?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Jon nodded. “That sounds good.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I’ll hear from you soon then.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He headed back to where Tim was pretending not to have watched from behind the counter.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Tim raised an eyebrow at the excessively happy Martin who was practically bouncing next to him. “So...how’d it go?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Jon’s going to text me.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Nice one! I knew you could do it.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Well, Georgie helped.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Ah well, you needed it.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Oi! I would have done great on my own-”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“No harm in letting friends help out, Martin!”</span>
  <span><br/>
<br/>
</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Martin shrugged. “I suppose not.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“You know what this means though?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“What?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Tim grinned widely at Martin, pride radiating out of him. “We can change your name in the group chat.”</span>
</p><p><br/>
<span>Martin laughed as Tim got his phone out to do just that (</span>
  <em>
    <span>the hot one changed your nickname to graduate gay</span>
  </em>
  <span>) while Martin gazed across the cafe and smiled, feeling a sense of warmth spread through him. Outside, the rain continued to pour, but inside, Jon was warm with a mug of Martin’s best tea in his hands. At long last, a date had been planned. For now, that was enough.</span>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>I'm so pleased to have finished this and will add that I wouldn't have been able to do this without my friend and beta bannedthingy. Thank you so much for everyone's comments. They really made me want to write this well and do these fools some justice. Don't forget to bookmark as much fluff as you can so you have a store for when the season finale tears us apart in March!!!</p><p>I am thinking of writing more Magnus Archives fanfiction (but don't hold your breath...) so maybe see you on another fic soon!</p>
        </blockquote><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>So I am working on other chapters but they're not fully written yet.... I know where i want to go but if you have opinions please shout them at me in the comments! Melanie and Georgie should appear next chapter and Sasha will be here at some point :)))</p></blockquote></div></div>
</body>
</html>